Race Recap: The Leprechaun Loop 8K

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I'm not sure what the craziest decision I made this week was, but I have two distinct nominees:

1. Running a tough interval workout in the heat two days before the Leprechaun Loop 8K

2. Doing a 17-mile long run about 13 hours after the Leprechaun Loop.

Or perhaps the craziest decision was made several weeks ago: To run the Leprechaun Loop at all.

I'm not really a very good afternoon / evening runner. I do nearly all of my runs in the morning, when it's a little cooler here in the South, and before I've become preoccupied with the events of the day. But the Leprechaun Loop 8K was too tempting: It's put on by Summit Coffee, the semi-official coffee shop / meeting-place of my running group, and it's right here in my home town. It was also at 6 p.m. on an abnormally warm day even for this part of the country.

On Friday morning after my tough interval workout, I was feeling sore. I did a 7-mile recovery run at a very slow pace and didn't feel any better. The weather forecast for Saturday's race suggested it would be in the high 70s at race time. I began to wonder if I could possibly meet the sort of goals I've been setting for myself in races lately. My last 8K was in October, when I took a wrong turn and finished in 33:10 - an asterisked PR. I should be able to do better than that; all it would take is to run faster than a 6:40 pace, and given that I'd managed a 6:07 just a few weeks ago in a 5K, that seemed quite doable.

But I also have a long-term goal of completing a 10K in less than 40 minutes. To do that I will need to run at a 6:26 pace. Ideally I'd use the 8K as a testing ground to see if I can hang at a 6:26 pace for 8K.

As the temperature rose throughout the day on Saturday I set two very tentative goals: First, to PR, and second, to finish at a 6:26 pace or better.

I arrived at the starting area about 40 minutes early and picked up my race packet. Soon I saw plenty of other runners I recognized. Most importantly, Chad was talking to Anthony Famiglietti, who recently moved to Davidson. Fam, as he is called, happens to be a world-class runner; he was a steeplechaser on the US Olympic team in 2004 and 2008 and will be trying out again this year. Chad introduced me, and Fam turned out to be a really nice guy. He asked me if I'd be running this one all-out, and I said I would, so he gave me several tips. The most important one was to go out fast; the course is front-loaded with downhills and you might as well bank time at the beginning.

This was a slightly different strategy than what I had been considering given the heat -- the temperature was approaching 80 degrees, and chances didn't look good for an afternoon shower to cool us all off. I figured Fam knew what he was talking about, and decided to head out at just over a 6-minute pace, then see how long I could hang on.

I took about a mile-long warm-up run, then headed to the start. I decided to ditch the running cap I usually wear during races; it was just too hot for it.

At the starting line. I'm right behind Fam (orange shoes).

Soon we were off and heading downhill. After a few hundred yards I glanced at my watch and saw that I was running about a 5:30 pace. Too fast. I gradually slowed down and let a few runners pass me; hopefully I'd pass a bunch of them back as the race wore on. Among the runners ahead of me were Fam (of course), and fellow DARTers Tommy and Chas.

Tommy and Chas have never beaten me in a race, but both of them seemed much more comfortable than me in the heat. At some point I think I passed Chas, but Tommy stayed in front of me through Mile 2. Here's a photo Chad caught of me at around Mile 1.5:

Me trying to look like I'm having fun

Soon after this, Chas passed me back, as did a runner Chad had just introduced to me, Pete. Here's a photo of both of them:

Chas is making this look much too easy!

Even though the course wasn't really getting any harder, my times got progressively slower for each mile. Mile 1 was 6:17, Mile 2, 6:30, and Mile 3 was 6:44, despite 85 feet of downhill. Even so, I think I passed Tommy in Mile 3. Chas just kept gaining ground, but Pete was tantalizingly close ahead of me.

I pressed into Mile 4, knowing this would be the most difficult mile of the course. I glanced down at my watch halfway up the hill on Avinger and saw that I was running a 7:30 pace. I knew I could go faster than that, heat or no heat, so I tried to pick it up. I turned the corner from Pine Road onto Lorimer, where Marc Hirschfield was taking pictures:

I may look awful in this picture, but I can assure you I was feeling worse!

I finished Mile 4, with its 84 feet of climbing, in 7:12. I tried to increase the pace for the final mile, not wanting anyone else to pass me. Pete was in my sights but much too far ahead to catch, so at this point I was just hoping not to be embarrassed. As we got closer to the finish I saw more and more people who knew me — not just running friends, but other friends from around town. I tried to smile as I passed by.  The final mile included two steep hills, and the race finished up a gravel road and then another gradual upslope. I strode across the finish and then mercifully stopped at the water table. The clock read 32:50; somehow I had set a PR.

Chas and Pete were there to congratulate me / commiserate over the difficult course, and soon Tommy, Brian, and a number of other DARTers had crossed the line. Chas had set a huge PR of 31:57, a 6:26 pace. Even if I hadn't succeeded in my goal of running this race at a 6:26 pace, Chas had! This was the first time Chas had beaten me in a race, and I suspect it won't be his last; he's still got lots of potential for improvement.

I learned a couple things from this race. First, I still haven't mastered the 8K distance; I don't yet know when to turn it on and how much gas is left in the tank. Second, I probably need to do more training in the heat to be prepared for events like this. I don't like the heat, but I do know that the only way to get better at handling it is to run more in the heat. Despite all this, I still managed a PR and finished third in the 40-49 age group, so I should probably learn to stop complaining and just be happy about my race! Here's the local news site's report on the race, here are the overall results, and below is my Garmin record of the race.

Race Recap: The JCL Good for the Heart 5K

I went into the JCL 5K with two goals: First, break 20 minutes. Second, break 19 minutes. A 19-minute 5K requires a 6:07 per mile pace, and I had done 6:01 per mile for 2.2 miles a couple weeks back, so 19 minutes definitely seemed like it should be doable. That said, my last two short road races both involved wrong turns, so I was also prepared for the worst.

Fortunately, this was a familiar course for me, since I had PRed on it last summer, completing the Streetlight 5K in 20:37. Also fortunately, my friend Bobby Aswell was at the race, and he'd be running a similar pace. Bobby takes lots of photos when he races, so here's one of me getting ready:

After watching Bobby's daughters run the fun run (his oldest was the fastest girl!), I lined up in the second row next to Bobby, who had told me before the race that he would probably be running around a 19-minute race. If I was going to break 19 minutes, I'd have to beat Bobby (on a good day, Bobby can run sub-18, but he had just run a marathon last week).

There was the usual bunch of kids who like to start out in front at these small races, a very strong-looking 30-ish man, and not many others who looked like they would be very fast. After an awkward start down a steep hill, I settled into a stride, with about 10 runners ahead of me and Bobby just behind me. Bobby and I wove through the pretenders and soon realized there were just two runners ahead of us, a very young teen, and Strong 30something.

We were nearing the end of Mile 1, running into a small headwind, so I decided to let Bobby break the wind for a while. Glancing at my watch I could see I was running about a 6-minute pace. I was breathing very heavily and my throat started to feel a little sore. The temperature was about 40 degrees, which would be perfect for a marathon, but I found myself wishing it was a bit warmer. Finally I decided it was time to pass Bobby, so I took off past him, and was relieved to hear he was breathing just as hard as I was.

We passed Mile Marker 1, and I glanced at my watch to see 5:37 flash by. Really? The marker was in a different spot than it had been last year, so I was inclined to believe it was in the wrong spot. My Garmin beeped in with my 1-mile split a little later: 6:00. That seemed more likely. Meanwhile, Strong 30something was running away with the race, but Young Teen looked like he might be catchable. We headed up the only major hill on the course, and I focused on staying strong. I glanced down at my watch and saw that I was running a 6:30 pace. Had I really slowed down that much? I tried to pick up the pace.

We reached the turnaround, with Young Teen about 10 seconds ahead of me. Bobby had dropped quite a ways back -- he said he timed the gap at the turnaround and I had a 16-second lead on him. He gave me a thumbs-up as I passed. Now I had a quarter-mile of downhill to regroup before trying to hang on for the finish. I didn't see Mile Marker 2, but when my Garmin beeped it registered a 6:20 for the second mile. If I was going to break 19 minutes, I would have to pick it up for the rest of the race.

Young Teen was maintaining his 10-second lead, but he was also looking back every 15 seconds or so. A sign of weakness? I mustered all I could but couldn't seem to close the gap on him. I was truly gasping for breath now, and my throat felt raw from the volume of cold air passing through it.

As we approached the 3-mile marker, I noticed Strong 30something standing on the side of the trail cheering us on. Had he already finished and run back to this point? It didn't seem possible.

All that was left now was the final uphill stretch. I could see that I wasn't going to catch Young Teen but I thought I might have a shot at 19 minutes. I turned the final corner. The last 100 feet or so was a steep uphill. I could see the official clock ticking 18:51, 18:52, 18:53. Would I make it? I sprinted across the line and stopped my watch. After catching my breath and congratulating Bobby, who was just behind me, I looked down at my wrist. This is what I saw:

I had done it! Or had I? This wasn't the official time; that would have to wait for the official results. After a cooldown run with Bobby we checked out the results and saw that I was clocked at 19:00 even. Bobby said he thought the timers usually rounded official results up, so we went and asked him to look up my exact time on the computer: 18:59.13. That's close enough for me; I'm calling it an 18:59, my first sub-20-minute 5K, and my first sub-19-minute 5K.

Bobby then pointed out what should have been obvious to me: Strong 30something hadn't registered for the race; that's why he had stopped at the 3 mile marker. That meant Young Teen was first, I was second, and Bobby was third overall. That's my best finish in a race, ever!

The top 3 finishers: Shad McGrew, me, and Bobby Aswell

At the awards celebration, the host made a fuss about the fact that the first-place finisher was only 14 years old. Then she said "And our second place finisher is," and looked at me, asking "can I tell?"

"Sure," I said.

"Forty-Five! It's Dave Munger." The assembled runners clapped in admiration as I picked up my award, a really nice gear bag. That settles it, I'm officially old. And fast. Better than old and slow, right?

The Garmin record of the results is below.

Race Strategy: The JCL Good For The Heart 5K

A couple weeks ago I won free entry into the JCL Good For The Heart 5K. It's the same course I set my PR on last July in the Streetlight 5K: 20:37. This time around I'm hoping to finally break the 20-minute barrier in a 5K.

The last couple short road races I've done have involved wrong turns, so despite running below the required 6:26 pace in both events, I still haven't completed a 5K in under 20 minutes.

The prudent thing to do on Saturday would be to go out at a roughly 6:20 pace, giving myself a little cushion and allowing me to comfortably finish under 20 minutes. I'm not planning on being prudent, though. I want to give myself a shot at a sub-19-minute 5K, which requires a 6:06 pace. So I'm going to head out at 6 minutes flat and just see if I can hold on. Here's an elevation profile of the course:

Note the large hill in the middle!

This makes it look worse than it really is. The only hill of consequence is the large one in the middle, and it's short enough that it's over fairly quickly. Then you have a nice downhill to rest, and then a flat mile where you try not to slow down. There is a steep little uphill at the start / finish line that somehow doesn't show up in the elevation profile, but I find it to be more troubling at the beginning of the race than at the end.

I think being familiar with the course will be a real plus, and assuming the weather cooperates, I should have a shot at a PR. Currently the forecast is for a windy morning, but a perfect 45 degrees at race time. Most of the course is sheltered from the wind so I don't think the wind will be much of an issue. Looking good! Details of today's workout are below.

Not easy in the Big Easy

I jumped at the chance to get a free hotel room in New Orleans during Mardi Gras. But that didn't mean I was going to take it easy with my workout program. Today I wanted to do a little speed / distance work, so I decided on 40 minutes at marathon pace, then 5 at tempo pace, then 20 at MP and 5 tempo.

New Orleans is nothing if not flat, so I wasn't worried about terrain. I decided to define MP as 7:30 and Tempo pace as 6:30. What I didn't count on was the humidity. It was 70 degrees and 85 percent humidity during my workout. As I started warming up at an 8:15 pace, I could tell this wasn't going to be easy. After two miles, I tried to start building up to MP. I wasn't even close: My first mile was a 7:53. Four miles at 8+ minute pace followed. Finally by the end of the fifth "marathon pace" mile I was starting to get used to the heat, so I tried to turn it on for my first 5-minute tempo run. 6:30 was definitely not happening, but I managed a 7:00 pace for 5 minutes. Somehow I hung on for 2.5 miles at an 8:00 pace, then did another 7:00 pace for 5 minutes.

I was drenched in sweat and had underestimated the distance home, so my cooldown ended up being 3 miles for a total of 14. I was spent. The workout wasn't as fast as I had been hoping, but how did I do given the conditions?

Mark Hadley says you should add 0.75 percent to your mile pace for every 5 degrees above 60 during a workout. If the humidity is over 80 percent, add another 10 degrees to the temperature. So today it should have felt like I was running in dry, 80-degree weather. That sounds about right. That means I should add 3 percent to my planned speeds. At a 7:30 pace that would be 13.5 seconds, or 7:43.5 per mile. At a 6:30 pace that would be 11.7 seconds, or 6:41.7 per mile.

So no, even accounting for the weather, I still didn't hit my target times. But at least I wasn't so far off!

Details of today's workout are below.

H.B.D.

Today I turn 45 years old. As runners like to note, this is a big one: I'm now in a new age group for most races. Instead of the 40-44 age group, I'm in the 45-49 group. In theory, that should make it easier for me to get age group awards at races. But I've found that advancing to a new age group doesn't necessarily help. Let's take a look at my last few races to see what a different age grouping would have done for me.

Mississippi Blues: I finished first in the 40-44 group; my time was good for second in 45-49
Elf Run: First in 40-44, 5th in 45-49
Mount Pisgah Frozen Trail Run: Third in 40-44, second in 45-49
Richmond Marathon: 44th in 40-44, 22nd in 45-49
Mooresville Pumpkin Run: 3rd overall -- out of age groups
Bridges Half Marathon: First in 40-44, First in 45-49
Run For Green Half Marathon: First in 40-44, First in 45-49

So, in two of the seven races, I would have improved my standing, and in two I would have fared worse. In three I would have stayed the same -- overall it looks like there's not much benefit.

But where you can really see the difference is in the result at Richmond. Richmond had by far the largest field of any race I ran last year, and jumping up to the 45-49 group would have improved my ranking from 44th to 22nd.

You might think that was only due to the fact that fields tend to be smaller in the older age groups, but actually there wasn't much difference. There were 328 finishers in the male 40-44 group, and that number only decreased to 305 in the 45-49 group.

In smaller races there have been as few as 6 or 7 people in my age group, so genuine age group differences can be difficult to suss out; it's really more of a question of who happened to show up that day. But when you have a large field of runners to compare, it's clear that there is a real drop in the level of competition at the 45-49 age grouping. That means that if I am able to maintain my current level of fitness, I should do better relative to my age group.

Of course, maintaining fitness gets harder as one gets older -- which is why we have age groupings in the first place.

Details of yesterday's run are below.

Life since Mississippi

It's been nearly three weeks since my half-marathon in Mississippi. You may be wondering what's happened over that timespan, given the fact that I haven't made a post.

In a word, things haven't been going great. Almost as soon as the race was over I could feel my right IT band seize up.

The IT band is a muscle that extends from the hip to below the knee on the outside of the leg, and it's notorious for acting up in runners. I've had IT issues before, but never this bad. Most runners seem to notice pain in their knees, but for me in the past it's been primarily in the hips. This time, it was the knee for me as well. I generally have more IT pain after runs than during runs, and this was no exception. Many runners feel significant IT pain during runs, and at least I wasn't getting that.

That said, it was quite painful for me to just walk around, and for the first time ever, I was feeling a little pain during runs as well. Chad suggested I try an IT band strap, and actually gave me one to try. This helped with the pain during runs but afterwards I really wasn't feeling much better.

Then, last week, I caught my first cold in over a year. This actually sidelined me from running for four days -- the longest layoff I've had in over a year with the exception of a ski vacation I took last winter.

During my illness, I took some time to reflect and decided I needed to get serious about fixing the IT band problem, so I went back to a regimen I had outlined last year. I'm doing two different exercises every day, along with stretching a couple times a day. I'm back running this week, and so far, things are feeling quite a bit better. My knee still cracks and pops when I walk around, but there is no pain except for a few twinges during runs.

So what's next? I had considered trying another half-marathon this month, to try to squeak in under the deadline to qualify for this year's New York Marathon, but given the IT issues, that's definitely out.

I have only been doing easy recovery runs this month, with significantly-reduced mileage. I think I need to set my sights on a new challenge, and I'm a bit torn. I could sign up for a signature event like the Cooper River Bridge Run, but that seems like a bit of a mob scene ... unless you're in the sub-40-minute 10K group. That would necessitate me actually running a sub-40-minute 10K, which is probably at the borderline of my abilities. A challenge!

A completely different challenge would be the Blue Ridge Marathon: One of the hilliest road marathons on the planet. Obviously you're not going to PR on a course like that, but still, it would be an exciting challenge.

Decisions, decisions....

For what it's worth, today's workout is below.

Race Recap: The Mississippi Blues Half Marathon

I went to Mississippi with a lofty goal: Finish the Mississippi Blues Half Marathon in less than 1:30 and qualify for guaranteed entry to New York.

I wasn't sure I was quite up to the challenge; I've only had a month to ramp up training after recovering from the Richmond Marathon, and I haven't quite been meeting my speed goals during training. That said, my training runs have been faster than what I was doing prior to Richmond, so maybe I'd be able to pull something out. I flew down to Jackson, Mississippi the day before the race with Todd Hartung and Bobby Aswell, who were registered for the full marathon.

I've been following a three-stage taper for this race, and the day before race day, to my mind, is the riskiest bit: A bump-up in distance at race pace. I decided to do three miles, while Todd and Bobby did an easy two mile jog. The first thing I noticed about my final training run is that the roads in Jackson are in terrible shape. The sidewalks are in even worse shape, with huge chunks of missing pavement, six-inch cracks, broken glass, and myriad other hazards. The second thing I noticed was that the hills seemed a little bigger than what I had planned for. The next thing I noticed was that keeping up a 6:52 pace was hard, even for just three miles. Was it wise to do a hard, three mile run the day before the half? Only time would tell. Oh well, the registration fee has been paid, so there was nothing left to do but run the race.

With Todd and Bobby at the packet pick-up

We awoke at 5 for our 7 a.m. start and I had a couple of Clif Bars and drank about a half-liter of water as we all nervously prepared our gear. At 6:30 we headed out the door for the half-mile walk to the starting line. At 52 degrees, the temperature felt comfortable, but we knew it was going to warm up over the course of the race. There was also the possibility of rain. I knew I needed to get near the front of the pack of racers for the start; based on last years results there would probably only be 50 marathoners and half-marathoners running a faster pace than me. After a blues guitarist played a very cool version of the national anthem, we were off!

About a half-mile in, I passed Bobby (a very unusual sensation for me) and knew I wouldn't see him or Todd again for three hours. I passed the first mile marker and hit my "lap" button to record the distance (I don't use auto-lap on races because I want to measure my time for the official race distance, and the Garmin is always a little bit off). 6:50 for the mile, which is right on target. To run a 1:30 half, I would need to average 6:52 per mile.

As I continued to run, I noticed my pace was holding remarkably steady at 6:50 per mile. I started down a short hill and picked up the pace, and the Garmin's pace indicator didn't budge. Finally I realized that I hadn't pressed "lap," I had pressed "stop" at Mile 1. I restarted the timer, but I had no idea how much time I had lost, or how far I had gone. Finally I passed the Mile 2 marker. I carefully pressed "lap" and recorded a 10:50, 1.6-mile lap, at an average pace of 6:47. So I was missing about 0.4 miles, but I had no idea what pace I was running at that time. I decided to assume I had averaged 6:47 for the whole first two miles—what else could I do?

I passed the Mile 3 marker at a 6:40 pace, then the half-marathoners split off from the marathoners. A woman smiled and told me I was in 20th place. I wasn't especially interested in my overall position, but it was neat to see that someone cared this much! All the volunteers at the race were fantastic, extra cheerful, and many of them thanked me for coming. None of this, however, was making the Mile 4 marker arrive any sooner. It was a gray, cloudy, day, and the mist seemed to be descending closer and closer to ground level. We were running along the freeway, then passed under it and back up a ramp along the other side. Definitely not one of the scenic high points of Jackson, Mississippi. And where was that mile marker? Finally it arrived, and I pressed my lap button to reveal a 7:20 split for the mile. What? I had been running a 6:46 pace the whole time, but it didn't matter--what mattered was the actual split for the mile. My watch also said I had run 3.7 miles, so a quick calculation accounting for my earlier error revealed that Mile 4 was probably a tenth or so long.

There was nothing I could do about it, but in the meantime I had lost 30 seconds. Since I hadn't given myself any leeway at all, I would need to make it up over the rest of the race. I decided to try to run 6:45 splits instead of 6:52 splits. For the next mile I ran a 6:41 pace, but Garmin measured the distance at 1.02 miles, so my split turned out to be 6:48.

I ran mile 6, with its 66 feet of climbing, at a 6:46 pace, but Garmin measured it at 1.01, so my split was 6:50. And now I was really starting to labor, barely halfway through the race.

The mist was getting thicker now -- so thick that it condensed on my glasses. It was becoming more and more difficult to see, and finally I had to just remove the glasses. In the best of circumstances, without my glasses I can see about three or four feet in front of me, but despite my impairment I could definitely see better without them. I could see the worst potholes on the road, so I wasn't in danger of tripping, but I couldn't see far enough ahead to know what type of terrain was coming up: Downhill, uphill, or flat, it just wasn't possible to tell. After a while this takes a bit of a psychological toll. If you know the hill you're on ends in a half a block, it's easier to motivate yourself to push to the top. Running blind, I simply had to try to stay as close to a 6:45 pace as I could. Mile 7 was even hillier than Mile 6, but thankfully it had some downhill stretches, and finally a Garmin error fell in my favor. My watch measured the mile at 0.96, and I completed it in 6:37 despite my 6:55 pace.

But with each passing mile, it became more difficult to keep up the pace. My feet felt every bump in the road, and the strain reverberated up my legs. At one point I had to ask a volunteer which direction the route went, despite the fact that it was clearly marked with cones; I just couldn't see them through the fog. The route went straight ahead. Splits for Miles 8, 9, and 10: 7:06, 7:00, and 7:22.

The low point of the race was probably Mile 11. I realized I almost certainly wasn't going to make my 1:30 New York Qualifying time. I decided to take a break and just run at a 7:30 pace. A runner passed me, smiled, and said "that was the last big hill!"

That inspired me and I decided to try to keep up with him for a while. It didn't last long, and soon a pack of 7 or 8 runners passed me. My split for Mile 11 ended up at 7:20.

Finally at Mile 12 I seemed to get an extra bit of wind. I picked up the pace again, and was able to bring it down to 6:55. Maybe this race wouldn't be a complete disaster. Just over a mile to go.

In the final mile I started to pick up more steam. I wasn't running at 5K pace or anything, but I felt good enough to get back into the 6:40s. I passed our hotel, about .6 from the finish, and the whole staff was outside cheering me on. Oh, maybe they were cheering for those other 2,000 runners, too, but it felt like they were cheering just for me. I told them to warm up the shower for me.

The final stretch, brutally, was yet another hill climb, but I managed to keep up the pace, striding across the finish line as the official clock read 1:31:07. Surely that meant my chip time was under 1:31, right? Not quite -- officially I finished in 1:31 flat, still a PR, but not quite what I was hoping for. My average pace: 6:57, 5 seconds slower than what I needed. My pace for the last 1.1 miles: 6:44.

I really had given it all I could. I don't think there's any way I could have gone faster on that day. I don't think the bump-up day affected me much, but I don't think it gave me an extra boost. Maybe I would have felt better on race day if I had just taken it easy the day before, but I don't think I could have run a 1:30 on that course in those conditions. Maybe on a cooler, overcast day with a smoother surface to run on I might have done it, but not there and then. Garmin recorded a cumulative 426 feet of climbing. That's not an especially hilly half marathon, but it's far from flat. Maybe some time later this season I'll try another half-marathon on a flatter, smoother course and see if I can break 1:30.

In the meantime I headed back to the hotel for a shower. When I entered the lobby I got a rousing ovation from the desk staff. I think I may have been the first racer to return to the hotel! I went up to the room and got my camera for the obligatory post-race self-portrait:

Yes, I realize I don't look great. But at least I'm done!

I showered and walked back to the finish to watch Bobby and Todd cross the line. Here's Bobby approaching the finish:

And here's Todd:

Both Bobby and Todd agreed that this race was tougher than it had looked on paper. But we all tottered back to the start line for a group photo:

The woman who took this picture even let me wear her medal since I'd left mine in the room

We even got to take a picture holding the awesome giant-guitar race logos:

I'm not really leasing out my bald spot!

If you zoom in on this picture you can get a sense of how rough the pavement was on pretty much the entire course:

It was like someone had taken rough gravel and just epoxied it together, then added lots of potholes for good measure. After 13.1 miles, you really start to feel it in your legs. I can only imagine how the marathoners felt!

So given the difficulties, I'm pleased with the result. I may not have gotten a guaranteed entry to New York, but I PRd on a tough course, and saved myself hundreds of dollars in airfare, hotel, and race fees in New York. Not a bad deal, all in all.

If you're interested, my [partial] Garmin plot of the race is below.